


Heavy In Your Arms

by halcyon_longing



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Community: falloutkinkmeme, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kink Meme, Prompt Fill, Slow Burn, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-05-22 12:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon_longing/pseuds/halcyon_longing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill from the Fallout Kink Meme: </p>
<p>I would love to see Charon be the sex beast and best love he can be. I would love to have the female LW be secretly chased down and be wooed by Charon (because he is in love with her), and then be ravaged by his skills in bed. He is a man over 200 years old. I am sure he has a few tricks up his sleeve. Haha. </p>
<p>I would like to add I want there to be light BDSM in play, to spice things up a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He was getting tired of these bothersome feelings plaguing him day after day. When his blood wasn’t pooling in his groin and making his armor uncomfortably tight, the blood was rushing to his face and giving him the horrifying idea that he may in fact be blushing. On some occasions, Charon was unlucky enough to experience both. This was one of those times.

Elle was waist-deep in the Potomac, using a tin can to pour water over her hair. They were heading back to Megaton from one of their ventures into D.C. when she spotted the waters and insisted that she wash the Super Mutant blood out of her hair. Before Charon could protest, Elle had stripped all of her clothes off and splashed into the river.

Charon now stood on the rocky shore facing away from the water, far enough away to give Elle some privacy but close enough that he could protect her at a moment’s notice. His hands tightened on his shotgun and tried to focus on anything other than his naked employer behind him. He would not let his guard down, not for enemies and certainly not for the young vault dweller.  
He had never allowed himself to think of his employers in a sexual way; his training simply didn’t allow him to. Sex and affection were weaknesses, ways to be deceived and caught unaware. The first time Charon had caught himself thinking of Elle as anything other than the holder of his contract, he knew he was in trouble. 

As the travelled through the Capital Wasteland, Charon found himself analyzing Elle’s body for more than combative purposes. He studied how her fingers delicately skimmed over her weapons during her nightly inspection and repairs, the curve of her toned thighs and ass as she crouched on a rock overlooking a raider camp and scoped out a target, the gentle swell of her breasts that he could just barely make out when she was wearing an oversized shirt to bed back in Megaton. Increasingly and beyond his control, these studies were turning sexual. He pictured her fingers wrapped around his cock, slapping her tight round ass until it left a red handprint, her tits bouncing as she rode him until she screamed in ecstasy. 

Elle started humming, just loud enough for him to hear, and it snapped him out of his fantasy. Charon hoped his training wasn’t wearing off or he would soon be as useless and vulnerable as all the other male mercenaries who lusted after his employer. But there was no other explanation for how he had been feeling lately. Two hundred years was a long time, probably much longer than he was ever intended to be used by the group that had “brainwashed” him, as Elle put it. He couldn’t remember a time before the contract, but over the past couple employers, he had noticed himself becoming more in tune with his own thoughts. Although he had to carry out Ahzrukhal’s orders, no matter how cruel and depraved, Charon spent late nights on duty in the Ninth Circle feeling something he almost considered remorse. In his early years, these feelings were nonexistent, so it was uncomfortable to suddenly feel guilt over his actions without being able to refuse an order or repent.

Elle was entirely different. When they helped rescue Big Town citizens from a group of Super Mutants, Charon felt a sense of pride, like the satisfaction he got from landing a difficult headshot on an enemy. She had smiled at him, no differently than any other time, but that particular smile sent his heart racing. Elle was an anomaly in the Wasteland. She didn’t just act for her own survival, she actively sought out ways to help others, even if it meant putting herself in danger. Charon had lost count of the number of times he saved her life because she was too impassioned in the heat of battle to notice an enemy in her periphery. He admired her courage, even if it was often impulsive and resulted in Charon taking a bullet to the arm.

Elle’s humming cut off abruptly, followed by a louder than normal splash, and Charon spun around, his mind racing with a number of scenarios. A raider sniped her with a dart gun, a Mirelurk King pulled her beneath the dark waters… But Charon spotted her pale shape under the surface, swimming casually in the river’s gentle current. He lowered his shotgun with a sigh, unclenching his teeth.

This was getting ridiculous, he thought as he traced the shape of her long lean legs with his eyes. A sudden thought of those legs wrapped around his waist as he pinned her against a wall overcame him, and he groaned as he grew hard once again. 

Elle surfaced, but Charon didn’t turn away. He was hypnotized by the trail of water snaking its way down her lower back from her dripping hair. Charon had the urge to run his tongue along it, tracing her spine gently and making her shiver. Elle reached up to push the wet hair from her face, and her raised arms revealed the outer curve of her right breast.

Charon promptly spun back around, closing his eyes tightly and trying to focus on anything but his employer. Exploding raider heads, misshapen centaurs, that damn annoying Moira… He wished a molerat would toddle by just so he could have something to kill, but a gentle splashing growing louder indicated that Elle was wading out of the water towards him.

He so desperately wanted to grab her right then, soaking wet and exposed for him, and fuck her senselessly on the shore but it was his common sense that stopped him, not his training. He was a centuries-old ghoul, with ragged skin and exposed muscle, and the wasteland had taught him that no smoothskin would ever want to fuck a ghoul. Even if they did, for some inexplicable reason, the shame from other smoothskins would be enough to deter them.

On top of all that, Charon feared that Elle would reject him and give away his contract, and that was a far worse fate than anything he could imagine. She was the best thing that had happened to him in all of his memory, spanning across the centuries. She treated him as an equal, as a friend. When he was with her, Charon almost felt human again.

“Ready to go?” Elle asked, slinging her laser rifle over her shoulder, dressed once again.

Charon grunted his assent and she gave him another one of her radiant smiles. As she strode off towards Megaton, he hesitated. A horrible tingling feeling was making its way over the surface of his skin, even over the weathered parts where he thought the nerves were damaged beyond sensation. 

He was definitely in trouble.


	2. Chapter 2

They reached Megaton, Elle’s adopted hometown, just as the sun was starting to set. Her patchwork home was untouched since the last time they had visited. Charon had never quite understood the appeal of sleeping in a glorified tin can perched above the town, held up only by a few rickety beams, but he wasn’t going to question Elle, not when she looked so happy to be home again.

She kicked off her boots upon crossing the threshold and immediately flopped down on the threadbare couch, eyes closed and arms splayed. Charon sat at the table across from her and took the opportunity to study his employer further.

Elle was beautiful whenever he looked at her, even when she was bruised and bloody from combat. He thought back to a recent encounter with a particularly nasty group of raiders that had left Elle with a black eye and a swollen lip. She kept trying to push Charon away when he tried to look at her injuries, obviously embarrassed at the beating she had taken, but he didn’t care. Her good eye still burned with the fiery rage from battle, and that look was one that got him every time. Slim and fragile-looking as she may be, Charon knew better than to underestimate her, even from the beginning when she had purchased his contract. She was docile outside of combat, but there was no stopping her once she got going. The girl had a lot of pent-up frustration and knew exactly how to translate it into physical damage.

Now, as she lay on the couch like a ragdoll, Charon got to see a side of her that was rarely visible. Inside the walls of her home, she felt safer than she did anywhere else and it was apparent in the way she carried herself. In the wasteland, even when they settled down for the night, she was never fully at ease. There was always some muscle in her body that held tension, ever-ready to defend herself. Now that she finally felt safe, he wanted to kneel beside her and keep watch, to make sure she could actually relax for as long as possible.

As Charon sat there, he realized that none of his thoughts were sexual, a change from the previous weeks. Watching Elle, he felt oddly protective and not just in the way that his contract required. No, this protectiveness wasn’t just for her physical wellbeing, but for her emotional wellbeing as well. He wanted to stroke her long auburn hair that fanned out over the armrest of the couch, to trace her jaw gently with his ragged fingers, to wrap an arm around her waist and pull her close to him. This girl was too good for the Capital Wasteland, and certainly too good for Charon.

Elle stirred and he quickly grabbed his shotgun, pretending to be maintaining his weapon rather than staring at her while she slept. As she sat up and stretched her arms above her head, the hem of her shirt lifted and revealed the pale, smooth skin of her stomach.

“Want to get a drink?” she yawned, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Yes. He did very badly.

 

* * *

 

 

An hour later, they were seated at the counter of Gob’s Saloon and Elle had already knocked back a few shots of whiskey and was more than a little tipsy. Charon was nursing his own beer, even though he desperately wanted to drink himself into a stupor to forget about his employer, who became much more touchy-feely when she had a couple drinks in her.

Elle’s hand was currently clenching Charon’s thigh, using it to steady herself as she jabbered away to Gob about their latest venture into D.C., her other hand gesturing wildly. Charon leaned away slightly as her arm flailed a little too close for comfort, apparently demonstrating the way a Super Mutant’s head exploded as she nailed it with a blast from a shotgun.

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t stop to see Moira!” Elle exclaimed suddenly, turning to Charon with a look of horror on her face. He opened his mouth to say she would have plenty of time in the morning, but she had already hopped off of the barstool and landed somewhat unsteadily on her feet.

“Oh, no, you can stay here,” she said quickly as he rose from his barstool, ready to escort her drunk ass across town. “It’s just around the corner, I’ll be fine.”

Elle flashed him an earnest smile, her cheeks flushed red from the alcohol. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

“I’m a big girl, Charon, I can do it by myself,” she said, waltzing to the door of the saloon. “Stay here, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

He wasn’t sure if she meant it as an order, but Charon obeyed and sat back down. It wasn’t very dark outside yet, and Jericho was in the corner with some Wastelander girl, so there wasn’t much to be feared from Megaton at the moment. He listened to her footsteps clanking across the metal platform away from them, and when he didn’t hear a shriek of terror that would indicate that she had toppled over a railing, he allowed himself to return to his beer.

“I see you two still haven’t sealed the deal,” came a female voice from behind Charon. He swiveled on his barstool to find Nova watching him, her arms folded across her chest and a look of amusement on her face.

“You know, knocking boots, rubbing fun bits?” she smirked, exchanging glances with Gob.

When Charon didn’t respond, she huffed and approached the bar, sitting in Elle’s vacated seat.

“Listen, big guy, you’ve got it bad.”

Charon was taken aback at this line of conversation. He had never spoken to Nova before, let alone seen her without Elle by his side, so he had no idea why she was approaching him now with such a personal subject.

“Oh don’t act like you don’t know. I’ve seen the way you look at her. Hell, we all have. Right, Gob?”

The ghoul, who Charon thought until now hadn’t been paying attention to their one-sided conversation, set down Elle’s half-cleaned whiskey glass. He hesitantly met Charon’s eyes, as if assessing the risk of being slugged in the face should he respond. He must have decided that the counter between them was sufficient protection, because he chanced a brief nod.

“Trust me, I’ve seen that look a thousand times. You have the look of a man who’s fallen in love. Hard.”

Charon swallowed hard at hearing that word and drank the rest of his beer to occupy himself. Love. It was something he hadn’t thought about in a long time. Sure, he was fond of the vault kid, but love? Now that Nova mentioned it, hadn’t he been experiencing all those bullshit feelings they always sang about on the radio…?

“And the frustration of a man who hasn’t gotten the girl,” Nova continued with an expression close to disappointment.

“She’s a smoothskin,” Charon blurted out before he could stop himself.

Nova gaped at him for a moment, as if she hadn’t expected this turn of events, and then she laughed.

“So? Just because you don’t see it out and about doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Gob and I are doing wonderfully together, thank you very much.”

She turned and gave Gob a smile and wink.

“Besides, haven’t you noticed the way she acts around you?”

A flash of confusion must have appeared on his features, because she gave him a look of mild pity.

“Oh honey, Elle adores you,” Nova said, her voice taking on a gentler tone, “She’s always looking out for you, even if you’re too busy looking out for her to notice. When you’re not checking her out, she’s checking you out. Her eyes light up when you look at her. And that’s just what we’ve seen here in Megaton. Who knows what you do out in the wasteland when it’s just you two.”

At that, Nova gave a little wink, and Charon shifted on his barstool uncomfortably.

“All joking aside, she really deserves to be happy. She’s been through too much shit for a kid her age. She needs a little comfort and loving,” Nova smiled, “And I’m sure an older man like you must have some tricks up his sleeve…”

Elle burst back through the saloon door, and Charon felt a wave of relief wash over him. He didn’t want to talk about his past, or even think about it, especially with Nova. She had already given him a number of uncomfortable thoughts to dwell on that night when he would be trying to sleep.

“Charon, c’mon, it’s sooo late!” Elle giggled, latching onto his arm. He could feel Nova’s eyes on him and ignored her, instead getting to his feet and helping Elle out of the saloon.

The cool night air was a refreshing change from the stuffy atmosphere of the saloon, even with the occasional dust-filled gust of wind. Elle was chattering about her trip to visit Moira, but Charon didn’t pay her much attention. Instead, Nova’s words echoed in his head.

_Elle adores you._

He looked down at the vault dweller and saw that she was gazing up at him, eyes shining with excitement as she rambled on and on. Charon steered her back to her house more carefully, now aware that she wasn’t paying attention to the ground under her feet.

“Let’s get you into bed, smoothskin,” he muttered once they got inside.

She pouted and protested feebly. Charon smirked and swept an arm behind her knees, lifting her up effortlessly. Elle laughed at the sudden action and curled up in his arms, burying her face in his chest. He froze at her sudden closeness, waiting for her to recoil, but she stayed pressed up against him.

As he carried his employer upstairs to her room, Charon frowned. He wasn’t going to give any weight to Nova’s words. Elle was a cuddly drunk, that was a fact. She would fall asleep in anyone’s arms, even if those arms happened to be missing skin in some parts.

He gently lowered Elle onto her bed and she grumbled, apparently disappointed to be leaving the warmth of his arms. She fell quiet again as he covered her with a blanket, and within a few moments, she had dozed off. Charon watched her steady breathing, the way her face softened as she fell deeper into sleep. Strips of moonlight, creeping in from the gaps in the roof shingles, illuminated her face and made her appear paler than she already was. Even after all her travels through the decrepit wasteland, Elle managed to remain almost as flawless as she had been when he first laid eyes on her in the Ninth Circle.

Charon reached out a hand hesitantly as if to touch her cheek, then quickly pulled it back.

_An older man like you must have some tricks up his sleeve._

Nova’s words were still ringing in his ears. He was old as dirt, certainly, but that didn’t mean he remembered anything about romance. Two hundred years of combat and guard duty hadn’t exactly exposed him to the finer details of relationships.

He’d seen plenty of sex, though. Connections boiled down to one animalistic goal. The wasteland didn’t lend itself to romance, but there was still plenty of fucking. When Ahzrukhal wasn’t leering and making crude remarks to patrons of the bar, Charon had spent many evenings watching ghouls pair off after a few drinks. He noticed their hungry expressions and grasping hands, desperate to feel someone else’s flesh, no matter how ragged. Out in the wasteland, raiders fucked each other violently, wanting nothing more than to satisfy their carnal needs, and they uncomfortably reminded Charon at times of the feral ghouls lurking underground.

Elle didn’t need that.

 _Well, maybe she does_ , Charon thought with a smirk as images of his fantasies played once again in his head.

But no, Nova was right. Elle needed love, first and foremost. Anyone would probably be more than willing to fuck her, and the idea of another man in bed with his employer elicited ferocious feelings of jealousy and protectiveness that Charon didn’t think he could ever experience, especially for a smoothskin.

Elle was his to protect, and who better than he to give her the comfort that she needed? He was always by her side, and she had chosen him to be there, even if she wasn’t quite aware of what she was getting into at the time. He tended to her wounds that she couldn’t quite manage on her own, watched her back in combat, carried her to bed when she was too tipsy to think straight. Charon’s contract was purely for physical services, but now, he knew that Elle needed something more.

As Charon lay stretched across his bed, waiting for sleep to come to him, he thought of Elle, his Lone Wanderer, alone no more.


	3. Chapter 3

Charon begrudgingly opened his eyes as the hazy morning sun streamed into his room. He rolled out of bed slowly, feeling all of the aches and bruises he had acquired on their last expedition. His fingers brushed against the rusty ceiling as he stretched, and he quickly dressed in his armor.

He knew that after this particularly long trip, Elle would want to spend a couple days resting in Megaton, recounting their stories in a more sober mental state than last night and catching up with local gossip. However, the last thing Charon wanted to do was sit in the corner of the saloon, sexually frustrated as ever, with Nova giving him knowing glances every chance she got.

Charon had carried out horrific orders under his previous contract holders, but right now accompanying Elle at her gossip party was sounding almost as bad. He had to find something to distract her, he thought as he trudged downstairs to the kitchen. Something that would be much more appealing than spending another series of hours perched atop a barstool. 

Charon took down a box of Sugar Bombs from the kitchen shelf and gave it an experimental shake. Nearly empty. He gave a grumble of disappointment as he opened the box to grab a handful. Never did he think he would develop a taste for these stale, gritty empty calories, but they had been one of the first gestures of kindness that Elle had showed him after she obtained his contract.

__________________________________________________________________________

The two of them were camped out in the D.C. metro tunnels, not far from where they had been just a few days ago, on their way to Megaton for the first time as a duo. There had only been a handful of sentences exchanged between them at that point, and Charon wasn’t sure what to make of the young Vaultie. 

As Elle sat in front of him, heating a can of beans over the fire, Charon tried to figure out how he felt about her. She was a pretty little thing and he had no idea how she had made it to the Underworld without getting captured by raiders or slavers. She had a decent stock of weapons, but her hands lacked the calluses that showed up with frequent fighting. The faint scars on her arms and legs indicated that she had lost a fair number of fights, as well. Perhaps that was why she had sought out his contract so eagerly… He was hired muscle and she would pass his contract on as soon as she got her bearings in the Wasteland.

After splitting the can of beans between the two of them, eating in silence, Elle turned to her bag and began rummaging through the numerous pockets. At last, she pulled a colorful box from a side pocket with a triumphant cry.

“Sugar Bombs,” she explained, seeing Charon furrowing his brow at her, “They’re my absolute favorite.”

She ripped open the top of the box and scooped out a handful. Charon could see the sticky, sugary coating on the cereal pieces from where he sat, even in the relative darkness of the tunnels.

“I was saving them for a special occasion and, well, this seems pretty special,” Elle said, regarding the box with a fond smile, “Here, have some.”

She held out the handful of cereal. Charon hesitated. His previous employers had never gifted him with silly indulgences like this. For so long, he had subsisted on the bare minimum of protein and rarely anything more. Elle was waiting, hand still outstretched, but her expression was gentle. It occurred to Charon that she knew exactly why he was hesitating.

He bit the bullet and took the cereal from Elle, being careful not to make contact with the pale skin of her hand. She might be sharing, but that didn’t mean she wanted to touch him. Smoothskins never did. 

Elle seemed to be satisfied and returned to the box. Charon’s lip curled as he looked at his handful, but the last thing he wanted to was piss off the girl who had saved him from an eternity in the Ninth Circle and immediately shown him kindness. So, he carefully ate a single piece, making sure to keep his face expressionless when they were inevitably godawful. 

He was pleasantly surprised.

Yeah, they weren’t fantastic and they were a bit on the stale side, but he hadn’t realized how much he had missed the taste of sugar after two hundred years without it. He continued eating them one by one, savoring the syrupy taste, and it wasn’t until he had finished and was considering licking the sticky residue off his hand when he realized Elle was watching him.

She held out the box to him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Want some more?”

____________________________________________________________________

Charon contemplated the cereal box. There was barely a serving left inside. As much as he wanted to polish it off, he shook his head and placed it on the rickety dining table, but not after stealing a single piece for himself. They were Elle’s favorite, after all, and he wasn’t going to deny her even the smallest source of happiness. 

He sat down on the couch and pulled Elle’s bag towards him, sorting through the clutter and trinkets for his target. At last, he located her favorite weapon, a plasma pistol that she had painstakingly decorated with a mosaic of paint chips that she had picked up around the wasteland. It killed him to see his employer favor such a silly and needlessly complicated weapon, when his good old-fashioned shotgun did the job perfectly well. Nevertheless, he carefully cleaned the gun with as much care he would give his own gun.

Charon was applying a new clear layer of glue over the mosaic design when he heard creaking from upstairs. He carefully set the gun next to the Sugar Bombs and pulled his own shotgun into his lap as Elle began descending the stairs.

“Morning,” she grumbled, clearly afflicted with a headache from last night’s drinking.

He grunted in reply as he took apart the shotgun, pretending to be deep in concentration. He watched Elle out of the corner of his eye as she approached the table. She stood there for a moment and took in the odd display. Charon supposed that he had unintentionally arranged the Wasteland’s version of a continental breakfast. 

“Did you clean my gun?” she asked, picking up the pistol and turning it over in her hands.

“Glue’s still wet,” he muttered and continued his act. He had taken apart the shotgun so many times that he didn’t need to look at it, so he watched her face instead. The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile as she set the gun back down and picked up the cereal box.

“And you saved the rest for me?”

She grinned and popped open the box. Charon scooted to one side of the couch as she joined him. 

“Here, you like them just as much as me,” Elle said, tipping the box’s opening towards him, “We’ll split the last of it.”

With the delighted sparkle in her big brown eyes, it was hard to say no. He opened his palm and she shook a bit of cereal into it. Was it a trick of the light or was there a slight rosy tint to her cheeks?

Charon let the thought wander around in his brain while they ate, avoiding eye contact. As Elle finished the box and began shaking the crumbs into her mouth, Charon decided now was the time to propose his idea for the day, before the thought of Gob and Nova crossed Elle’s mind.

“You should practice with that sniper rifle we found,” he said, finishing with his shotgun and propping it against the armrest. Elle gave him a pout.

“But I have a headache.”

“So take some Med-X,” he retorted without hesitation, “Raiders aren’t going to take pity just because you don’t know how to control yourself around liquor.”

Elle groaned and leaned against him, burying her face in his shoulder and grumbling incoherently. Suddenly, going out into the Wasteland seemed like a dumb idea. Getting up from the couch sounded like a dumb idea, too, at the moment. Charon looked down at his employer, who still sat there with her face hidden. Her hand was resting gently on his forearm and he felt the urge to hold it in his own.

Then again, he thought as he felt his cock twitch, it would be so easy to just push Elle down into the couch and take her, right there. He imagined the look of surprise on her face as he slipped his hand under the waistband of her shorts, teasing at the delicate skin. She would moan softly as he buried his face in her neck, while entwining her fingers in his and pinning her hands above her head…

Charon felt himself hardening and quickly moved to conceal it. Elle grumbled at his sudden movement and gave him a glare. He knew that her eyes were staring daggers into his back as he got to his feet and headed up the staircase, hand carefully positioned to hide his crotch from her line of vision.

“C’mon smoothskin, get ready so we can get you some target practice.”

He shut the door to his room behind him and leaned against the cold metal, groaning at his stupidity.

Way to show off those “tricks” up his sleeve, he thought darkly as he let his head fall back with a soft thud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy moly it's been a long time since I updated. But hey, there's only 42 days until I graduate college so I should have plenty of time to write, right??? In all seriousness though, I'm pretty sure I know where the rest of this is going (at least for a couple of chapters) so I should be updating regularly for the next couple of weeks. As always, thanks for reading! It always brightens my day to see a new comment or kudos, and you guys are really what keeps me writing this :)


	4. Chapter 4

Fifteen minutes later, they were walking out the Megaton gate, sniper rifle and shotgun in hand. Elle trudged along behind him. She had a hand up, shielding her eyes from the early afternoon sun.

At least she’s out the door, Charon mused. He’d expected her to put up somewhat of a fight, especially after he ruined her little nap on the couch, but she’d groaned and taken a dose of Med-X before getting dressed.

He didn’t have a concrete plan for Elle’s training. She was self-taught and a decent shot when she wasn’t rushing into the heat of battle. Still, she rarely spent more than a few seconds lining up a shot before pulling the trigger. Teaching her patience would be the most difficult part.

They had only walked for a mile or so when Charon spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. Instinct made his hands twitch towards his shotgun, but he resisted the urge and reached out an arm to stop Elle. She hadn’t noticed, hand still above her eyes, and collided headlong into his forearm.

“Ow, what the h-"

She fell silent when she saw he had a finger pressed to his scarred lips and followed his gaze to the movement.

There was a pack of molerats ahead of them, slowly scavenging through the dirt. Charon tilted his head towards a rocky outcropping nearby and Elle nodded in understanding. The two of them crept silently to it, crouching where two large rocks met and formed a little ledge for Elle to rest the rifle’s barrel while she lined up her shot.

He indicated for her to set the weapon upon the rocks, and she did so, checking the scope and larger surroundings as she attempted to line up the shot. Charon noticed that she was holding the gun like it was a clunky laser rifle, rather than with the finesse and precision that it required.

He let out a tense exhale as he watched Elle’s fidgeting hands. Charon knew an opportunity when he saw it, and he knew that he would earn a scolding from Nova if she ever found out he had chickened out of an opportunity like this.

Charon took his chance. He stepped wordlessly behind Elle and narrowed the space between them, careful not to brush against her. Her eye was still pressed up to the scope and she didn’t notice as he lowered his head to hers.

“You want your arms more like… this,” he muttered into her ear, and she recoiled away from the scope from his sudden closeness. His hands lightly trailed along her bare arms, repositioning them until she was lined up properly.

“Now place your grip here.”

He took her hands in his and guided them gently to the right position. Elle shivered beneath his touch and he saw goosebumps raise on her arms where he had touched her.

He prayed that it wasn’t out of disgust.

When she didn’t flinch away, Charon continued, figuring if he was going to do this, he was going to do it properly. He was in too deep to back out now.

“Now breathe,” he said, feeling her hair move from his breath, and Elle exhaled softly. He slid his hands back up her arms and, with a bolt of adrenaline spurring him on, placed them gently on her hips. She shivered again.

“Charon,” she started, her voice barely more than a whisper. 

There was something in her tone, almost a plea that made his heart race. He turned his head and was surprised to meet her gaze. She was looking up at him with wide eyes, her lips parted slightly. Charon realized just how close she was as he noticed the pink flush on her cheeks.

Elle’s hands slackened on the rifle and shifted in his arms so that she was facing almost completely towards him. He could practically feel the heat radiating off her as his fingers tightened involuntarily on her hips. She was so deliciously soft and more than anything he wanted to feel her skin against his.

“Charon, I-“ she breathed, but the intensity in his gaze made her falter and flush even darker. One of her hands came to rest on his chest, the other still lightly gripping the rifle. Charon wondered nervously if she could feel just how quickly his heart was beating through his armor.

They stood there for a few moments, maybe minutes, he couldn’t be sure. Nothing felt real apart from the beautiful girl in his arms. Charon could have held her forever, but Elle’s breathing was ragged and she was looking at him with such neediness…

Then, Charon’s racing heart stopped as reality came crashing back to him.

A terrible, blood-chilling roar pierced the silence and Elle jumped away from Charon with a gasp. Her hand slipped from the rifle and it slid, clattering to the ground on the other side of the boulders.

“No!”

Elle lunged for the gun with her hands outstretched but it was already out of reach. Charon grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to the ground, but it was too late. The rattling sound of the gun had already echoed across the landscape and she had exposed herself as a target.

Another roar and then there were pounding footsteps heading in their direction. The deathclaw, which had eluded their detection until this point, appeared to have decided that they were more worthwhile prey than the pack of mole rats.

Charon’s shotgun was in his hands and taking aim before he had time to think. The first shot made contact, but it wasn’t enough to slow the deathclaw. He fired again, but it still raced towards them, barely noticing that it had been hit. Charon emptied more shots into its scaly leg as it closed the distance between them, trying desperately to cripple it. As he made to reload, the deathclaw changed directions, away from Charon and towards the other end of the rock formation. It took him only a single horrified second to realize that Elle had disappeared and what the deathclaw was now targeting.

He shouted her name so loudly that he felt his mangled vocal cords would tear. She was sprinting towards the fallen rifle with panic in her eyes, but she was too far and the deathclaw was too fast.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The beast closed in on her and raised its claw in preparation to strike. Elle let out a piercing scream that Charon knew would haunt him until the day he died. The deathclaw swung at her once and her head cracked back against the rock before she collapsed. Charon didn’t feel his feet moving, but he suddenly found himself between the deathclaw and Elle’s crumpled body. He twisted and, shotgun facing the underside of its jaw, blasted its brains skyward. 

Blood rained down on them, but he was already lifting Elle in his arms, sniper rifle lying forgotten in the dirt. Her head lolled and he tried not to look at her, already feeling sick to his stomach. She was covered in blood and breathing in shallow gasps. 

How could he be so fucking stupid to not be ready for the worst? Had he gone so fucking soft with emotions that he’d overlooked the basics of wasteland survival? No explosives, no backup weapons, no stimpacks, and now Elle was dying in his arms.

As he ran back to Megaton, trying to cradle her head in the crook of his arm to minimize trauma, all Charon could hear was the echoing ghost of her scream.


	5. Chapter 5

Nothing felt real anymore. He wasn’t exactly sure what had happened between the time he arrived panting at the Megaton gate and when he laid Elle down gently on the clinic’s examination table.

“Deathclaw,” he rasped when Doc Church came running at the commotion. He was thankful that the doctor took over without a moment’s hesitation, because he didn’t think he could speak anymore even if he tried.

His vision was blurry. The clattering sound of medical tools sounded distant in his ears. Now that he was here, he felt horribly useless. He could neither help nor leave, so Charon sank into a chair in the corner of the clinic, feeling as if his legs could no longer support him.

_Fucking stupid_ , he thought over and over in an attempt to keep his attention on anything but Elle’s limp body. _Letting your dick get in the way, look where it got you… Can’t even keep the girl safe and now she’s dying… Breaking the contract, you disgusting, worthless…_

Charon’s head throbbed with a sharp pain and he moved to rub his temples, but his stomach lurched at the sight of his hands. They were stained red, still wet in spots from Elle’s blood. The leather on his wrists glistened sickly from the dim light of the single bare bulb. Charon swallowed and tasted bile. He closed his eyes, trying with all his might to block out the sound of Church’s work.

It could have been a few minutes or hours, Charon wasn’t sure, when Church finally stepped back from the table and wiped his hands on a dirty rag with a sigh. Charon’s eyes snapped open as he awoke from whatever fugue state he had slipped into and his heart instantly started to race.

He jumped to his feet so quickly that the chair toppled over, but Church raised a hand and hastily said, “She’s going to be fine.”

His legs felt weak again, but this time it was out of relief.

“How…“ he croaked, trying to find the words for what he was asking, but Church seemed to be reading his mind.

“She lost a lot of blood, she only made it because you got her here so quickly,” Church said in what Charon felt was an inappropriately calm tone, as if she had come in with a splinter. “There was a bit of a concussion, but I’ve treated that the best I can, so she’ll just need to take it easy for a while and manage the pain…”

Charon wasn’t paying particularly close attention to his words at this point. All he wanted was to see Elle’s face. His feet moved forward of their own accord as Church spoke up hastily.

“There’s also the matter of the – ah, yes, the scar,” Church’s voice trailed off, but not before Charon had seen Elle’s face and felt a pang of horror.

A thick ragged scar, pink from the rapid stimpack healing, extended from Elle’s hairline all the way down the left side of her face and across the corner of her mouth. A smaller scar followed a similar path on her collarbone.

“I’m afraid that the wound was too deep for anything else to be done,” came Church’s voice from behind Charon, suddenly sounding defensive. Charon’s hands clenched, but he knew nothing good would come from beating the doctor into a pulp, especially when he had just saved Elle’s life. The damage had been done and Charon’s carelessness was now forever etched into his employer’s face.

“She can go home, but I’d advise keeping an eye on her until she wakes up,” Church continued, although he seemed to be more relaxed from the fact that he had not yet been punched.

Charon dug in his pocket for a handful of caps and pushed them into Church’s hand wordlessly. It was probably more than the doctor would have asked, but Charon couldn’t exactly put a price on Elle’s life. He gently lifted Elle into his arms, being careful not to move her head too much, and moved to the door.

“Thank you,” he muttered hoarsely, even if the doctor would never understand how thankful he truly was.

 

* * *

 

The walk back to Elle’s house was slow and felt miles long. Charon’s body ached and it wasn’t until then that he realized how much tension he’d been holding in his muscles. Every step seemed harder than the last. He felt a hundred years older by the time he reached the front door. The scene inside the house didn’t help this feeling, either.

Elle’s gun, the new coat of glue shining slightly from the dim light, was still laying on the table beside an empty cereal box. An unused Med-X syringe sat on the couch where Elle had been earlier, and Charon had an urge to roll his eyes at her stubbornness. It was messy, but it was their normal. Now standing here, Charon felt like a stranger in the house. The Charon that left with a hungover Elle in tow that morning was foreign to him. He tore his eyes away from the scene and headed upstairs.

Charon tucked Elle carefully into her bed, pushing the flattened pillows into shapes that somewhat cradled her head. The feeling of helplessness washed back over him as he pulled up a chair to the bedside. The house was silent apart from Elle’s gentle breathing, and Charon’s head pounded once again with the sound of her scream. He wanted to go downstairs and retrieve the Med-X, to push the syringe into his vein and go wonderfully numb, but Elle would need all the pain medication in this town and the next when she awoke.

Instead, he gritted his teeth and vowed silently to never leave Elle’s side again.

 

Charon awoke to the feeling of something brushing the top of his head gently. He opened his eyes and found himself looking at Elle’s blankets. As the grogginess faded away, he realized that he had slouched over during the night and fallen asleep with his head and arms on the bed beside Elle. Now that he had straightened that out, he turned his thoughts to the mystery sensation.

He raised his eyes and saw Elle’s arm elevated slightly, then he identified the feeling as her fingers in his remaining patches of hair.

“Elle!”

He bolted upright, ignoring the painful twinge his spine gave in protest, and saw that Elle was looking at him with half-shut eyes and a faint smile. Her arm fell limply back to her side and she winced. Charon quickly grabbed her hand in both of his own, sliding to the floor on his knees so he could get closer.

“Elle- no, _Mistress_ , I broke the contract, I did this to you, it’s all my fault, I’m so sorry…”

The apologies tumbled from his mouth without hesitation, not even fully aware of what he was saying. He bowed his head, raising his hands as if in prayer, still clutching Elle’s between them.

“Charon…” Her voice was weak and hoarse, but it was enough to make him stop and look up. There was still a faint smile on her face, even though it looked painful for her.

“I don’t blame you,” she whispered, letting her eyes close.

“But Mistress, I wasn’t prepared, I should have stopped it, I…” Charon let his head fall again, feeling too ashamed to look at her face. “I’ve failed you.”

“Charon.” Her voice was suddenly stronger and he knew that if she had the strength, she would have grabbed him to force eye contact. “The contract hasn’t been broken. I still want you with me.”

Charon looked at her and was startled to see the intensity of her expression despite how weak she was. She was alive and still wanted him. She wasn’t going to sell his contract. He hadn’t let her down.

“Mi- _Elle_ ,” Charon said, a wave of relief washing over him and temporarily dulling the pain in his head, “I will continue to serve you as long as you’ll have me.”

And with that, he surprised himself and gently kissed Elle’s hand. It could have been euphoria playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn, despite her drooping eyelids, that her cheeks flushed pink before she spoke again.

“Good. Now please go find something to do other than sit here and torture yourself because I’m going to fall asleep again in about a minute and I don’t know how many hours I’ll be out this time.”

Charon’s lips twitched into a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! In the time since I last updated, everything has been crazy. I graduated from college, got and started a job in my field, and most importantly, this story has passed over 1000 VIEWS ON HERE!!! Never in a million years did I think so many people shared my love for this grumpy ghoul. Everyone has been so supportive and if possible, I want to make a request.
> 
> I'm not an artist. Which is trouble for my job because I work with kids and in the two weeks I've been working, they've asked me to draw a sea lion and a praying mantis and I've let them down sorely. Anyway, I've never been good at visualizing characters because I always picture them with my face and this makes writing pretty difficult for me at times, since I need to watch a scene in my head in order to translate it to words. I've done okay so far, but with sexytimes coming up with these characters, it would be incredible if I had an actual face to give Elle in my head when they're doing the Atomic Tango.
> 
> This is a huge request and I know people usually want money for commissions, but I'll pay you in promos and praise and I'll write you a fic on the kink meme or in your messages if you want??? I'd probably even give you my firstborn child if you give me a couple of years.
> 
> You don't need to draw Elle doing anything special, or even Charon with her. I just need a face to work with that hasn't been drawn by my hands (I have some really bad doodles of her on [my tumblr](http://halcyon-longing.tumblr.com) if you need a starting point, but you could also totally just go with what's been described in the fic). I've been doodling her with modified merc charmer armor but again, you can put her in literally anything you want.
> 
> I know this is a lot to ask for, but I figured I'd ask anyway. I love all of you so much and I hope you've enjoyed this update, even though it's taken forever. Thanks again for reading and I swear I'm going to update again soon <3 <3 <3


	6. Chapter 6

He tried to keep himself busy, but every time he finished whatever little task he had assigned himself, Charon drifted back into Elle’s room. Her condition was stable but he couldn’t bear to leave her side for more than a few minutes. After he had cleaned the shack as well as the wasteland would allow, reorganized and taken inventory of their stockpiled food, and taken apart and reassembled his shotgun until his fingers went numb, Charon simply couldn’t find anything else to do and returned to sitting at Elle’s side.

He’d fallen into a trance watching her chest gently rise and fall when she stirred from her sleep. It wasn’t until she said his name that he snapped out of it. He met Elle’s eyes and was pleased to see that a hint of her normal fire had returned to them.

“You haven’t been here the entire time, have you?” she asked, suddenly reproachful. He shook his head and she relaxed back into her pillow.

“Good. Can’t have you going soft on me.”

Charon smirked, but it quickly faded when Elle pushed her hands into the mattress and tried to sit up. Her face contorted in pain and he jumped forward at once to help her. With a hand between her shoulder blades, Charon gently eased her into a sitting position.

“Med-X?” he asked quickly, watching as her fingers clenched into the bed sheets.

“No,” she gasped out. Her eyes were shut tight and she was biting her lip, presumably holding back a cry of pain. Charon could feel her breath hitching in her chest beneath his hand still resting on her back. Part of him admired Elle’s strength, but another was swearing at her for being so stubborn.

She kept her eyes closed for a minute or so and her breathing gradually returned to normal. When she opened them again, she let out a quiet laugh.

“Don’t look at me like that, Charon. I just needed to move. Muscles getting stiff and all.”

He hesitated but when her gaze didn’t falter, Charon moved back to his chair, still scooted up to the edge of her bed. Elle gave him a satisfied smile. She raised a hand as if to push her hair behind her ear but stopped suddenly and her smile faltered.

“How bad is it?”

Elle was no longer looking at him, her eyes instead cast down. Her hand had fallen back into her lap.

Charon didn’t understand.

“How bad is what?” he asked cautiously.

“The scar.”

His stomach plummeted. The jagged line on Elle’s face was more white than pink now, but it was no less prominent. In the four months they had traveled together, Charon had not known her to be particularly vain but there was a difference between wasteland grime and huge twisting scars.

He must have been silent for too long because Elle said his name in an uncharacteristically sharp tone.

Charon raised his hand to her face slowly, avoiding her piercing eyes. He gently touched the place at her hairline where the scar began.

“Here,” he murmured, and he realized with a horrible pang of regret that this was the first time he had touched her face. He wished more than anything that the circumstances had been different, anything but this.

His fingertip traced the shape of Elle’s scar, barely ghosting over her skin. Charon swallowed the lump in his throat as he stopped, lingering at the corner of her mouth.

“To here.”

Elle closed her eyes and turned her face away. He quickly pulled his hand back, feeling at once that he had overstepped his boundaries. Charon opened his mouth to apologize, but she interrupted him.

“Get me a mirror?”

If he hadn’t been sitting at the bedside, Charon wouldn’t have heard her. Elle’s voice was barely more than a whisper, cracking from what he knew were unshed tears. He didn’t respond, but got up and retrieved the small tarnished hand mirror she kept on her desk. Elle took it wordlessly and paused, as if preparing herself for what she was going to see.  
Elle’s hair had fallen over the side of her face, blocking Charon from seeing her expression. As he watched, though, he was glad he couldn’t see her eyes. Her shoulders inched up as she drew her arms in to her chest, curled up like a small child, and her fingers tightened around the mirror until her knuckles turned white.

That unfamiliar protective feeling came over him again. He so badly wanted to reach out and pull her against him, to hold her tight and brush the tears from her cheeks. The wasteland had finally taken its toll on his bright-eyed employer. To the passing stranger, Elle was now indistinguishable from the rest of the battered wastelanders.

Charon’s arm moved as if to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but he stopped at once when a choked-back sob escaped from Elle.

“Leave me alone,” came her voice from behind the curtain of hair, and the pain it carried made Charon’s heart ache in a way he didn’t think was possible anymore. “Please.”

It was an order, even if she didn’t mean it to be. He had a shameful sense of relief as he closed the door behind him; he didn’t want to leave her side, but he also didn’t think he could stand another minute of seeing her so weak.

As Charon walked downstairs, wondering what alcohol would be his friend for the night, the sound of shattering glass rang out, as if a small mirror had been thrown against the shack wall.


	7. Chapter 7

Even after half a bottle of whiskey, Charon couldn’t bring himself to check on Elle. She wanted to be alone, she had made that clear, but he still felt the need to bring her water and maybe a shot of Med-X. Nonetheless, every time Charon got halfway up the stairs and saw the closed bedroom door, his gathered courage failed him and he slunk back to the whiskey bottle.

The night went by in a haze, somewhere between sleep and a drunken state of wallowing in self-loathing. He had a room upstairs next to Elle’s, but the last thing he’d wanted to do was lay in bed listening to her shuddering sobs, unable to do anything about it. In all of his years, Charon had never felt so defeated. Physical injuries were easy enough to fix; a stimpack or two could solve just about any problem on the battlefield, except perhaps the occasional blown-off limb. Emotional damage, however, was an entirely new concept, one that he didn’t know how to mend. And on top of that? Charon still couldn’t shake off the label Nova had given to his feelings: love.

When Elle didn’t emerge in the morning, Charon worked up his courage and left a small plate of food and a Med-X outside her door. His head ached from a combination of a hangover and a restless mind, but her needs were always greater than his and he didn’t want to use any painkillers she may need. 

A few hours later, Charon heard a door click open, followed by slow, careful footsteps. Every muscle in his body urged him to get up and go help her, but her loose order still stood. So he stayed where he was, feeling pathetic and useless. He listened to her movement upstairs as she made her way into the bathroom, waiting for the sound of her falling, but it never came. As she headed back to her room, Charon heard the scrape of the plate against the floor and he sighed with relief. At least she was eating. That much he could do for her.

The night passed in a similar fashion to the one before. Charon dozed on the couch with the rest of the whiskey in his hand, always listening for noises coming from Elle’s room. The following morning and afternoon were just as uneventful. Charon continued to bring food upstairs, leaving it in front of her door and collecting the dirty dishes. Once in a while, Elle would venture out to the bathroom, but not once did Charon dare to climb the stairs and try to talk.

As evening approached, he started feeling restless. It had been nearly three days and Charon needed to do something. Smash a radroach, blow off a raider’s head, hell, he’d even settle for talking to Moira at this point. Anything was better than sitting there alone with his thoughts for another day.

Just as he was contemplating shouting to Elle that he was going to the bar to buy more liquor, Elle’s voice rang out.

“Charon?”

Her voice was faint but unmistakable. Charon almost jumped at the noise; he had become used to the house being silent over the past few days.

He sprang to his feet and climbed the stairs three at a time, nearly stumbling in his haste. He flung open the door, expecting the worst, but he found Elle on the edge of her bed in a strange position. Her arm was stuck in the sleeve of her shirt, making her look like the dinosaur that guarded the Underworld entrance. Charon almost laughed, but then realized that Elle was close to tears.

“I can’t even get dressed on my own,” she mumbled, blushing and casting her eyes down out of embarrassment.

“It’s okay, smoothskin, let’s get you changed,” Charon said, kneeling down in front of her and helping guide her elbow through the sleeve. “You should be glad this is your problem and that you aren’t missing an arm instead.”

Elle gave him a weak smile.

“Can you grab some clothes from the cabinet?”

Charon fetched a shirt and pants from the filing cabinet-turned-wardrobe and returned to Elle’s side. She lifted her arms and Charon carefully pulled the shirt over her head. He averted his eyes, but he couldn’t prevent his fingers from brushing along her ribs. Was he imagining it, or did she shiver under his touch?

Charon kept his eyes to the side as he held out the clean shirt. As Elle carefully maneuvered her arms into the sleeves, Charon caught a brief glimpse of her plain white bra. It was only for a second, but it was enough to make his cock twitch to life.

If she asked him to take off her pants, he thought uncomfortably, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop himself from going feral and taking her right there.

“I can probably get this by myself,” Elle said, rising slowly to her feet, and Charon let out a sigh of relief. He made to leave the room but she stopped him. 

“Could you stay? Just in case I fall?”

So Charon turned his back and listened, jaw clenched, as her pants slid to the floor. He didn’t even have to try; he immediately imagined dropping to his knees in front of Elle, inching her pants slowly down her legs while trailing hot kisses along her exposed skin. She would lace her fingers into what was left of his hair as he made his way back up, teasing her inner thighs with his tongue. Just as he had her begging for more, he’d grab her by the hips, push her backwards onto the bed…

“Okay, you’re good.”

He spun around, snapping out of his thoughts. Elle stood before him, fully dressed and doing up the button on her pants. Her hair was messy, but she didn’t seem to care.  
“Hey, can we go out? I want a drink and I’m tired of looking at these walls.”

He nodded and opened the door to let her out before him. Elle’s walk was only slightly hesitant now, much more sure-footed than her footsteps had sounded earlier. As much as he didn’t want to see Nova and her knowing smile, more than anything he wanted to see Elle smile again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for taking so long with this update. On top of not being sure how I wanted to write this part, we've had a family emergency. On July 30th, my family's business was affected by the devastating flood in Ellicott City, Maryland. We were in the store when it happened, so we were able to hold the door shut against the force of the water, but several inches of water still came through. We were able to salvage most of our merchandise, but the town is destroyed and it'll be months, if not years, before it can reopen. We have no income right now and no idea what to do. We have a gofundme set up for our family, but to stay anonymous, I'll be keeping that separate from my writing-associated accounts. If anyone wants more information or wants to help aid victims and assist in recovery, check the Ellicott City Partnership website.
> 
> This community is so amazing and I honestly don't know what I would have done these past few weeks if it hadn't given me the inspiration to write again. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading, and don't worry, things will start getting steamy within the next two or three updates ;)


	8. Chapter 8

Her hair, Charon realized as they headed towards the bar, had been left messy to hide part of her face. He could still see the ragged line that ran across her mouth, but she seemed to feel better with her eye and collarbone covered, so he let it be.

At the front door, Elle stopped and Charon almost ran into her.

“Is everything okay?” he asked hesitantly.

She didn’t respond at first and seemed to be bracing herself. When she spoke, her voice was shaky.

“Yeah, I just… needed a minute.”

Then she pushed through the door. The bar was packed with its typical late-night crowd. Elle didn’t seem to have expected this, and she froze in the doorway.

Charon placed a hand on her shoulder and leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“We don’t have to stay.”

Elle shook her head and walked forward, heading for an empty barstool in the corner. Charon followed and took his usual place at her side, leaning against the wall. He eyed the crowd for anyone checking her out, but thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed their arrival. Gob was the only one to spot her, and Charon realized at once that he had to warn him in some way before he made a mistake.

Gob was wiping the counter down as he sidled over, so Charon couldn’t get his attention until it was too late.

“Hey Elle, what can I get-”

Gob’s voice hitched as he looked up and took in her appearance. His forehead creased in concern and Charon knew that he was about to make a comment, so he stopped him with a quick shake of his head.

“-you?” Gob finished lamely. He made a valiant effort, but Elle had noticed.

“Just a beer, please,” she muttered, her shoulders hunching up towards her ears.

Charon shut his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Great. It had taken Elle days to work up the confidence to even leave the house, and the first person she encountered tore it right back down.

Gob set a bottle on the counter in front of her and scooped up the small pile of caps before hurrying away. Charon watched as he approached Nova’s side and whispered into her ear, stealing a glance back in their direction. Charon couldn’t read their lips but he could imagine their conversation all too well.

“Don’t look now, but Elle’s got a nasty scar across her face. Haven’t seen her in a few days. Hope she’s okay,” he imagined Gob saying. Nova, of course, couldn’t help herself and looked over her shoulder towards the bar. Her eyes widened at seeing the scar in question, but Elle was staring glumly into her beer bottle and didn’t notice.

“Don’t say anything,” Gob warned her, but Nova shot him a look.

“Well no shit,” Nova hissed, folding her arms across her chest. When she glanced at Elle again, however, her face had softened with pity, “Poor girl.”

Charon clenched his fists angrily. Poor girl, they didn’t know the half of it. The attack didn’t just leave a physical scar, it had nearly killed her and he was sure she’d show some signs of emotional trauma when they eventually headed back into the wasteland. A near-death experience would traumatize anyone, let alone someone with a bodyguard who thought they were safe.

Guilt began to rise in his stomach, but before he could start feeling sick from it, Charon realized that people had started noticing Elle in the corner. They first spotted Nova and Gob whispering to each other, then their eyes followed the sight line to Elle.

The raucous peals of laughter faded away gradually and were replaced with muttered conversations as more and more people stared at them. Whether or not Elle had noticed, Charon didn’t know but he wanted to get her out of the bar as soon as possible.

“Hey, let’s get out of here…” he muttered, urging her gently from the barstool. Elle complied without a word. So she had noticed.

They were almost to the door, feeling eyes on their backs, when a loud voice stopped them.

“Jesus Christ, Elle, the fuck happened to your face?”

Elle froze with her hand on the door, and Charon was about to take her by the shoulders and make her continue walking when the voice spoke up again.

“Ain’t so pretty anymore, huh? Damn shame, I’ll have to take you off my list…”

Charon didn’t think twice. He spun around and threw his elbow into Jericho’s throat, pinning him to the wall. The bar had gone silent apart from the man’s gasping and sputtering.

“Why so defensive, zombie? That bitch on your list too?” Jericho gasped as his fingers scrabbled at Charon’s arm.

Charon had expected Elle to scream at him to stop by now, but he heard a sob and a bang and realized she had run out the door. His heart plummeted but he turned his attention back to Jericho as a feeble kick connected with his shin.

“Come near her again and I’ll fucking kill you,” he snarled before slamming his fist into Jericho’s nose.

There was a sickening crunch before the man dropped to the floor, blood pouring from between his fingers as he clutched at his face. Someone gasped, but Charon wasn’t waiting around for the consequences. The sight of the blood had conjured up the memory of Elle’s lifeless body beneath the towering Deathclaw, and Charon’s vision began to blur around the edges. Jericho’s pathetic whimpering sounded muffled in his ears. He needed to get out.

Charon ran out the door, letting it slam behind him, and headed for the house. She had to be there. He couldn’t imagine her being anywhere else right now.

Sure enough, when he opened the door, he found Elle on the stairs. She was curled up against the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees and her face hidden.

“Elle?” he tried, but she didn’t move.

He approached cautiously and lowered himself onto the stairs beside her. Charon placed a gentle hand on her back, glad that she didn’t shrug it away. This whole comforting thing was new to him. He had no idea what she wanted to hear, but luckily, she spoke before he had to come up with something.

“He’s right,” she said, her voice muffled, “It’s so ugly. No one’s going to want me. Not even Jericho, and he’d fuck a Super Mutant if it was wearing enough lipstick.”

Charon chuckled in spite of himself, but stopped quickly when Elle’s body began to shake with new sobs.

“Elle, you’re so much more than that,” he murmured, and began to rub small circles into her back. “Someone is going to fall in love with you, regardless of a scar.”

_Someone already has._

“They’d be ridiculous not to.”

Elle raised her head. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, but she was looking at him with a peculiar expression. Charon swallowed hard, wondering if he had said too much, but she continued to let him rub her back.

“Let’s get out of here. Go on the roof. We’ve been in the house too long,” he said decidedly. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but the house felt too depressing to continue the conversation.

Elle nodded and raised her arms, a silent request for him to help her to her feet. She looked so small curled up on the stairs, and a wave of protectiveness overcame him. She was battered and broken; he was supposed to protect her. He was the only one she was letting in, and he needed to do something about it.

Charon reached past her outstretched hands to slide an arm behind her back and another under her knees, and with a yelp from Elle, he lifted her and stood in one smooth motion. She quickly latched onto his neck, and Charon felt a surge of pride when he looked down and saw that she was smiling from ear to ear.

Carrying her close to his chest, he kicked open the front door and headed to the side of the house. A few weeks ago, they had stacked half a dozen crates in a way that gave them access to the roof. It was Elle’s idea; after nineteen years in a vault, she confided in him that she wanted to see the stars as often as possible.

Charon carefully climbed the makeshift staircase, making sure to hold Elle securely against him. When he reached the flattest part of the roof, where it had been reinforced to hold their weight, he set her down gently. He noticed, before she stepped back, that her arms lingered around his neck for a moment longer than needed.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, with an uncharacteristically shy smile.

She walked to the edge of the roof where she sat and let her legs dangle. Charon joined her, watching as she fiddled with the Pip-Boy on her wrist. He would never figure out how to work the device, but after a few seconds, the soft sound of the radio began to play. Elle slid the Pip-Boy from her arm and set it behind her before leaning her head against Charon’s shoulder.

“I broke his nose,” Charon said after a minute or so. Elle lifted her head to look at him with wide eyes. He continued casually, “Two black eyes and a smashed nose? Yeah, no one’s going to get in bed with him for a while.”

Elle’s face split into a grin before she leaned into him again.

“Damn, and he was such a looker, too.”

He was making her smile. Finally, he didn’t feel so useless.

There were a few more minutes of silence as they sat there, listening to Three Dog share the day’s news while they watched late-night stragglers wander through town back to their homes.

“And now, it’s time for a nice slow one, for all you lovers out there tonight,” the DJ crooned before the next song’s violin opening began.

_“I say I’ll move the mountains_

_And I’ll move the mountains_

_If he wants them out of the way…”_

Charon wanted to make her smile again. He got to his feet and extended a hand to Elle, a strange electric courage coursing through his veins.

“Dance with me?”

The request hung in the air between them as the music continued to play. Elle’s eyebrows knit together in confusion as she looked at his outstretched hand.

“I didn’t take you for much of a dancer,” she said, a hint of a smile appearing on her lips.

“It’s been a while,” Charon shrugged. That was a bit of an understatement.

Elle took his hand and stood up. He pulled her gently towards the center of the roof before placing his other hand on her waist. She rested her palm against his chest as they began to twirl slowly to the beat of the music.

_“Crazy, he calls me_

_Sure I’m crazy_

_Crazy in love, I’d say”_

Elle had gotten closer as they moved. She took her hand from his and stretched her arms around his neck. With her head now resting on his chest, Charon feared she could feel his heart pounding. The last time they had been this close was before the attack. He wondered what would happen this time.

“Did you mean what you said?” she asked quietly. “About someone falling in love with me?”

There was no point in avoiding it any longer. He had broken a man’s nose defending her feelings and they were slow-dancing under the stars. If she didn’t figure it out soon, she never would. On top of that, almost getting killed outside their front door had given Charon a new gratefulness for every day that he was with her.

“Elle, you are the most amazing girl I’ve met in the two hundred years I’ve been on this earth.”

She looked up at him, doe eyes shining in the moonlight.

“You are kind-hearted and giving and everything that this miserable wasteland doesn’t have. You can gun down Super Mutants three times your size and blow off raiders’ heads in cold fury, but you’ll drop everything to help someone who needs it. You’ve done some incredible things without ever asking for anything in return.”

“Charon, I-” she started, but he kept going. The words had been bottled up inside of him for so long now that he didn’t think he could stop even if he tried, now that the dam was broken.

“You’ve shown me kindness that I didn’t think I deserved or would ever see again.”

Charon raised his hand and gently traced his thumb along the scar on her forehead.

“And you’re so beautiful, Elle, god you’re so beautiful. Scars, bruises, nothing is going to change that.”

He slid his fingers down to stroke her cheek and he could feel the heat there. Elle breathed his name, but he barely heard it. Nothing existed anymore but her. He felt like he was moving in slow motion and yet everything was happening so quickly. The fingers on the back of his neck tensed as she pulled him gently down towards her. At the same time, Charon moved his hand from her waist to her lower back.

Elle’s eyelids fluttered closed, and before Charon could think about what it would mean for them, he closed the distance and kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all - this is happening so fast! I wish I was updating slower, only because writing has been my coping mechanism since the flood and I didn't want this fic to be associated with a tragedy. For more information, see the past chapter's notes. Thank you all for supporting me during this incredibly difficult time. My parents had to go apply for food stamps today and it's been heartbreaking to see having to do what they've worked my entire life to avoid. If you can spare anything, please [donate](https://ecpartnership.org) to the EC Partnership to help everyone who was affected by the flood.
> 
> Thank you again for reading, and don't worry, we're almost there :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here, it's finally here!!!

She was sweet, like Nuka Cola, and her lips moved softly beneath his scarred ones. He wanted this moment to last forever, Elle wrapped in his arms beneath the starry sky, but he broke the kiss and pulled back. Even in the darkness, he could tell that Elle’s cheeks were flushed bright pink. Her lips were slightly parted and there was a tiny crease between her eyebrows.

“Charon?”

Her voice was barely more than a whisper. This was it. She was going to tell him he’d crossed the line and she didn’t feel the same. He’d put it all out there and now he had to face the consequences. Charon swallowed the lump in his throat, preparing for the worst, but before he was ready, Elle’s arms tightened around his neck and she was kissing him once more.

Gone was the gentleness of the first kiss, replaced with hunger and need. Elle pressed herself flush against his body. There was no way she couldn’t feel his hardness now. Just as fear started to creep back in, Elle began to grind her hips in hypnotic circles, and it dissipated at once. As his tongue flicked out to tease her lower lip, Charon tangled his fingers into her hair and tugged lightly. Elle whimpered, much to his delight.

He gave another tug, this time slightly to the side, and kissed along her jaw. She shivered when he licked the small spot just below her ear and positively moaned when his teeth nipped at the soft skin of her neck. Charon slid his free hand down to the swell of her ass and squeezed lightly. Elle was breathing quickly now, gasping whenever his teeth scraped or fingers tightened.

Just as Charon began sucking a bruise into her delicate skin, Elle said his name, her voice high-pitched and pleading. He placed a final kiss over the spot before straightening up to face her. Elle’s eyes were wide, cheeks somehow even pinker than before.

“Take me to bed?”

He had never been so pleased to obey an order. Charon scooped her up in his arms and descended from the roof. Her Pip-Boy lay abandoned, still playing into the night, but he had no intention of retrieving it any time soon. Not when he had Elle in his arms and she wanted him as badly as he wanted her.

The door was still ajar from earlier and he kicked it shut behind him. Nothing was going to interrupt them tonight. Even if bombs dropped and the world started to burn again, Charon didn’t think he’d be able to leave the girl in his arms.

As he carried her upstairs, Elle was making it increasingly difficult to focus. She squirmed against him, trying to find the best angle to nip at his neck. He let out a groan before he could stop himself as Elle laved her tongue across his jugular.

When they reached Elle’s bed, he set her down gently on her back. She continued to grip at his arms as he climbed on top of her, straddling her hips carefully. As he studied the expression on Elle’s face, never wanting to forget this moment, Charon suddenly felt a wave of self-consciousness that had been absent in all of his fantasies. This was very real and happening now. Elle was going to see him beneath the armor and defenses, all of the mangled skin and scars, and she could end it as quickly as it started.

Elle ground her hips up against him, and it took every effort to pull away from her. She gave a look of disappointment and tried to bring him back, but he resisted.

“Tell me to stop,” he said seriously as she continued to writhe in search of friction. “I don’t want to rush you.”

Elle shook her head vigorously.

“I want this, all of this,” she whispered, her fingers trailing along the hem of his shirt. “I want you.”

Charon let out a ragged breath and nodded. He raised his arms, and Elle lifted his shirt and pulled it over his head. Once the shirt was tossed to the floor, Charon felt her lust-blown eyes travel over his ragged chest with a hunger he had never seen before. She brought her hands up to brush his sides with light fingertips, as if asking for permission. When he didn’t flinch away, she took it as a sign to continue. Charon shivered under her touch as her fingers ventured up his abs, leaving his skin tingling. She stroked his shoulders before sliding her hands back down to rest just above his belt, where she played with the buckle teasingly.

“Not yet,” Charon smirked, taking hold of Elle’s shirt. “Your turn.”

Her shirt barely had time to join his on the floor before he was on her, trailing soft kisses from the scar on her collarbone to the smattering of fading bruises across her ribs. Charon stopped at her bra to trace his tongue along the fabric, dipping under just enough to tease at her rosy peak. Elle moaned softly as he continued down her stomach. He paused at the waistline of her pants, waiting for her to tell him to stop, but it never came. When he looked up, Elle’s eyes were heavy-lidded and her chest rose and fell rapidly.

Charon unbuttoned her pants with a growl and slid them slowly down her thighs. Elle kicked them to the floor clumsily once they reached her knees and Charon repositioned himself between her spread legs. Her panties were already soaked.

“Has anyone touched you like this before?” he muttered, kissing her inner thigh and slipping a finger beneath the fabric to feel her wetness.

“No,” she whispered, and he could hear the strain in her voice as she held back a moan. With a quick nip of teeth against her sensitive skin, he coaxed it out of her.

“And have you touched yourself before?” he asked as he circled his finger around her entrance slowly.

“Yes,” she whimpered, though Charon couldn’t tell if it was in response to his question or the teasing.

It didn’t really matter; Elle was squirming under his touch and that was his goal.

In one swift movement, Charon hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged down, revealing her sex to his hungry eyes. Every muscle in his body wanted him to mount her and thrust into the slickness at an unforgiving pace, but he resisted. Elle was still hurting, physically and emotionally. Tonight was going to be about her pleasure.

“I’m going to make you feel so _good_.”

She barely had time to think before his mouth was on her. Elle cried out and threw her head back as he ran his tongue along her folds, stopping just under her sensitive bud. She was sweet and musky, the most delicious thing he’d tasted in two hundred years. Her needy whimpers had him painfully hard, but he was going to make her scream before any release of his own.

His tongue dipped into her entrance before he slid in a finger and began thrusting gently. Elle mewled high and loud at the new sensation. Charon felt her hands at the back of his head, pulling him harder against her center. Her hips pulsed at an increasing pace, and he matched it, lapping at her clit.

Charon couldn’t remember the last time he had gone down on a woman, only that it had been long, long ago. Somehow though, the pattern of delicate finger and tongue movements that he had mastered in what felt like another life were coming back to him as if it had only been a few weeks. What was the expression they used to say? Like riding a bike.

Charon snapped out of his thoughts as Elle’s moans became more desperate, grinding her hips into his mouth with urgency. Every flick of his tongue caused her fingernails to dig into his skin as she rose closer to her climax.

“I- I…” she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut.

Charon pulled his mouth away and looked up at her. She met his eyes with an expression that screamed agony from being denied release so close to the edge. Her breaths came quickly and her forehead glistened with a sheen of sweat. Charon had never seen anything more beautiful in all of his years.

“Say my name.”

And with a feral growl, he latched onto her clit and sucked hard as he crooked the finger inside of her, and she came apart.

“ _Charon_!”

Elle cried out, his name spilling from her lips over and over, and Charon pressed a gentle hand to her hip as she writhed in pleasure. He continued to suck mercilessly as her cries devolved from his name to high-pitched moans that the neighbors could most definitely hear. Her slick heat clenched around his finger rhythmically, slowing as she gradually came down from her high.

When Elle stilled and her head fell back against the pillow, breathing heavy, Charon gently removed his finger and licked away her wetness before placing a final kiss on her shaking thigh. As he sat up, he expected Elle to be in a blissful daze, moments away from sleep. Instead, her pupils were blown wide with lust and she gripped at his arms to pull him up to meet her in a fierce kiss. Her hips ground against his, seeking friction as if she was trying to reach her climax anew.

Charon didn’t know what she wanted, but he went along with it, letting his hands slide up her sides. He brushed his thumbs over the fabric of her bra and felt her shiver as he connected with her hardened nipples. Taking that as a sign to continue, Charon slipped a hand beneath her back and unhooked her bra in one swift motion. Wasteland bras were much simpler than their pre-war cousins, he thought appreciatively as he tossed it to the ground with the rest of their clothes.

Elle let out a breathy gasp when he closed his mouth around her breast, teasing circles around the nipple with his tongue. She squirmed as his rough hands kneaded her other breast firmly, little whimpers coming from her throat faster now. Her hips began grinding against him once more, more urgently than before, and Charon took a chance and sucked her nipple between his teeth, tugging lightly. Elle’s cry of delight shot straight to Charon’s groin.

“Charon, please…” she panted, tugging him up by the shoulders. He went willingly, though he ducked at the last minute into the crook of her neck to plant scalding kisses there.

She repeated his name, though she was more insistent now, a request rather than a statement. He sucked one more bruise into her delicate skin before coming up to meet her eyes.

“Elle?” he asked and tried to sound casual, despite the nervousness that was rising in his throat. She was going to tell him to get off her, dismiss him to his room to take care of himself, and that would be the end of that. She got a taste of ghoul to sate her curiosity and now it was over.

His mind screamed at him to leave on his own terms and save what little dignity he had left, but his muscles had mysteriously decided to stop working. He opened his mouth to give her a lame excuse, but now his vocal cords seemed to be failing him as well. He didn’t need to say anything, however, because Elle had enough courage for both of them.

“Charon, please… fuck me?”

Her voice was so cautious, so soft that Charon wouldn’t have registered it if he hadn’t seen her mouth move. As his brain faltered, his speech began working again.

“Are you sure?”

He wanted to slap himself for being so ridiculous. This was what he had wanted, fantasized about for so long and now that she wanted it too, doubts were popping up like mole rats out of the scorched earth.

Elle traced her fingertips along his jawline and gave him a timid smile.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything before.”

The tension in his chest seemed to dissipate at once. He leaned in to place a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I’m going to be as gentle as possible. You’re still hurting.”

Elle nodded in understanding. Feeling more confident, Charon dipped his mouth towards her ear and gave the lobe a quick nip before growling, “Though there’s so much more I want to do to you. We’re just going to have to wait until you can handle it.”

The noise she made was pure sin.

Charon sat back on his knees and palmed himself through the front of his pants. Elle followed suit, sitting up as best she could with Charon still atop her legs, and gently placed her hand on top of his. Charon slid his hand away and then she was cupping his erection, and he didn’t miss the way her eyes widened for a brief second before regaining her composure.

Charon started to unbuckle his belt, but then Elle was there, her fumbling hands pushing his away. Charon smirked as he noted the similarities to her combat style; she was hesitant and waited for his lead, at which point she’d rush ahead eagerly.

Elle tugged down the zipper and eased his pants over his hips. With a shift of his hips, his cock was freed and he watched carefully for Elle’s reaction to its ragged appearance. Long gone were the days when he was proud of his manhood. Though the radiation had not affected its size, which was pleasingly proportionate to his height, the skin was still as tattered and scarred as the rest of his body.

If Elle was disgusted, she did a damn good job of hiding it. As her fingers wrapped around his length, Charon let out a groan he didn’t realize he’d been holding in his throat. Just this small amount of contact was enough to make precome begin leaking from the head of his cock. Elle gave an experimental stroke, and Charon let his head tip back, eyes closing in pleasure. She continued to slide her fist up and down his cock, trying different wrist movements and amounts of pressure to see what elicited the most noises from him.

Charon’s thoughts had gone blissfully quiet and all he could focus on was how good Elle’s touch felt. It was only a hand; it shouldn’t have felt very different from his own experienced one. And yet, the fact that it was Elle touching him made it so much better. Her teasing, slender fingers, the big brown eyes that gave away just how turned on she was. Everything about it was so strangely erotic that Charon feared he was about to come all over her hand like a teenage boy getting his first handjob.

Charon felt her shift and he opened his eyes just in time to see Elle’s head dipping down towards his cock, presumably about to attempt to return the favor. He caught her under the chin and eased her gently back up to meet him in a kiss.

“Not tonight,” he murmured against her lips, “You’ve already gotten me so turned on and we wouldn’t want our fun to end early.”

Elle blushed, but let out a soft moan when he placed his hand behind her head and gently eased her back down onto the mattress. He repositioned himself over her, using one foot at a time to slide his pants the rest of the way down his legs and finally to the floor with the rest of their clothes.

Slowly, he lowered himself onto his elbows, letting their bodies touch inch by inch. Elle’s hands went to his back and her caresses urged him onward. As he kissed her, Charon took note of every new sensation that their connecting figures created: the contrast between his hard muscles and her soft breasts, her skinny hips pressing up against his lower stomach with a growing insistency, the way his cock nestled perfectly into the hollow of her inner thigh.

Charon let a hand roam down her body. He traced the ridge of her collarbone, careful not to linger over the healing scar. As he cupped her breast, squeezing the soft flesh gently, Elle arched up into his touch. Charon rolled a pebbled nipple between his fingers and she mewled in response. He captured her whimpers in a kiss as he moved his hand to her hip and gripped tightly. In his hold, Elle ground against him and Charon groaned as his cock slid between her dripping folds. She gasped at the pressure on her clit, still sensitive from her climax.

She was so responsive to his touch. Every brush of his fingers, each kiss he placed on her lips and neck, made Elle shiver and clutch his shoulders harder. When he finally reached between her legs and slid in a finger, she moaned, and her nails bit into the scarred skin of his back. Charon shifted so that he could see where their bodies were about to join together. He withdrew his finger and took hold of his cock before placing it at her entrance. His breathing was ragged and he paused to meet Elle’s eyes, wordlessly asking one more time for permission.

“Yes,” she whispered, and that single word had never sounded more beautiful.

With a gentle, smooth thrust, Charon was inside her. The heat and tightness was so intense that he had to clench his jaw to not come right then. Elle’s mouth opened in a silent “oh” and he heard an inhale catch in her throat. Charon pressed a kiss to her jaw, tangling his fingers in hers, as he slid the rest of the way into her warmth. When Elle released the breath she was holding, she moaned softly.

“Put your legs around my hips,” he muttered into her ear, before giving it a quick nip.

She obeyed, and when he thrust into her again, she cried out at the sensation of the new angle. Her clenching thighs pulled him against her in tempo with his increasing pace. She felt so good, and Charon knew that no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

His stoic demeanor was all but shattered. He couldn’t stop the pleasured groans from escaping him as the heat in his groin coiled. Charon’s hand moved over Elle’s body impatiently, unable to decide the best place for it. Clutching her hip, tight enough to bruise so he could thrust even deeper within her. Fisted in her hair, claiming her as his own. Laced in her fingers, clutching tightly so that maybe she would understand how much he needed her by his side, his lifeline and sanity in this god-forsaken wasteland.

His hand settled at her cheek and he met her doe eyes. The way she was looking at him was almost too much to bear.

“Elle… I… I…” he gasped, feeling himself pass the point of no return.

She understood without needing another word.

“Come for me.”

Charon fell apart. He buried his face in her shoulder, muffling his long, low groan as he came deep inside her. Elle’s fingers caressed the back of his neck and before he could stop himself, words were tumbling from Charon’s mouth.

“I love you, Elle, god, I love you…”

He murmured it over and over like a prayer. He was unable to think, all that mattered was Elle and that she was his and how important it was that she knew it. Fuck the repercussions, fuck what people thought.

After a few more shaky thrusts, his cock gave a final twitch and Charon stilled. For a brief moment, he lingered in the feeling of her tight heat around him, made slick by her arousal and his come, before he pulled out and rolled onto his back beside Elle.

The fading pleasure lasted a minute or two longer and once his breathing became somewhat steady again, he turned his head. Elle’s eyes were shut, but as if she read his mind, her eyelashes fluttered open and then she was gazing at him, absolutely glowing. Her hand came to rest on his cheek, and Charon leaned into her touch as her fingers stroked his ragged skin gently.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t-” He tried to apologize, but words were failing him.

“It’s okay,” she said with a smile and he believed her.

“Get some sleep,” he murmured, taking her other hand and kissing each of her knuckles in turn.

Charon didn’t realize how starved for physical contact he had been until now. He’d spent decades in the corner of The Ninth Circle, surrounded by people but completely isolated. The only touch he’d felt in centuries was knuckles against flesh when his contract holder set him on a victim. Now, he didn’t want to leave Elle’s side. The thought of not being able to touch her, hold her in his arms, sent a jolt of fear to his stomach.

Elle reached to the floor and pulled the discarded blanket over them both before curling up against his chest. She brushed her tangled hair out of the way as Charon wound his arm around her. He held her tightly, afraid that if he let go, this moment would fade away and reveal itself to be a dream.

“Did you mean it?”

Elle’s voice was soft, already sounding as though sleep were approaching. Charon looked down at her, silent and waiting for her to elaborate.

“You love me.”

It was a statement, not a question. Charon hesitated. He was deeply regretting his lapse in self-control. Two hundred years of suppressing every emotion and urge, and he lost it in a moment of passion with the one person he cared for more than anyone he’d met in his long, miserable life.

“I do.”

There was a curious look in Elle’s eyes and Charon swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Okay.”

That was all she said before she kissed him, long and deep. There was the faintest hint of teasing as she ran her tongue along his bottom lip, and then she broke away.

“Goodnight, Charon,” she said, a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth before she settled back in his arms and closed her eyes.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before he lay back and relaxed into the pillow. Elle’s body heat was making him drowsy and not even his anxious thoughts could keep him awake at this point.

“Goodnight, Elle.”

For the first time in a long while, Charon slept peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while (almost three months, holy crap) but for some reason this was really difficult to write. I wanted it to be perfect and nothing I wrote felt right. I'm still not completely satisfied with it, but I promise there will be more sex upcoming, so don't despair (leave me to the despair, I'm awful at writing PIV sex and this shows it). Regardless, I hope I've delivered something good that you enjoyed. Thanks again for reading and I look forward to your feedback.
> 
> edit: The incredible [pirate-cashoo](http://pirate-cashoo.tumblr.com) has drawn Elle and it's beautiful. Check it out [here on my tumblr](http://halcyon-longing.tumblr.com/post/152389351942/the-absolutely-incredible-pirate-cashoo-has-given) and check out the rest of Cashoo's amazing artwork, especially the NSFW stuff ;)


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